


Reckless

by flootzavut



Series: Kate & Gibbs [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Air Force One, Airplane Sex, Community: nfacommunity, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e01 Yankee White, F/M, First Time, Kibbs, Mile High Club, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:46:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4831319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It may be her last chance to do something quite this reckless, so she figures she might as well go out with a bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sansone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansone/gifts).



> Written for the 2015 Nepal Charity auction.
> 
> The prompt: Air Force One Kibbs smut... which was a lot of fun to write ;)
> 
> Tag for _Yankee White_ , set between Gibbs giving Kate the gun back and them arriving back in DC.

* * *

**_Reckless_ **

* * *

 

"So."

Gibbs looks up at her when she returns from her tête à tête with Bauer, and she hopes she hasn't been misreading the expression in his eyes this whole time.

"So?" He's doing it again, giving her a look which says 'I want to swallow you whole' but making no move to do anything about it.

"I wanted to say thank you."

His mouth quirks into a grin and he shrugs a shoulder.  _It was nothing_.

It's shocking to her how quickly she's picked up his physical shorthand, how obvious it is to her what he's saying even though he hasn't spoken aloud. Shocking because the ease between them is almost unnerving. Shocking because if she's right about that - and she's sure she is...

She glances around. It's not exactly private, but there's no one else sitting in this section, and they're about as out of the way as you can get on an airplane. Everyone is otherwise occupied with the two dead bodies and a bunch of news stories itching to get written.

No one is watching her or expects anything from her... except him. He's definitely watching her. Has been the whole time. She's not sure what he expects, but she's keen to figure it out. And she knows exactly what she wants from him. It's all kinds of inappropriate, but she's okay with that.

This isn't something she'd usually do except behind closed, preferably locked, doors, but given she's lost her boyfriend and her job the last couple of days, and when they land at Andrews she's basically starting her life from scratch, she's finding it harder to care and much, much easier to dare than usual.

Or maybe it's just the effect of those clear blue eyes heating her up with no apparent effort whatsoever.

She makes sure the curtains leading to the next cabin are closed properly, then slips into the seat beside him. He's still looking at her, his focus not shifting at all as she leans in toward him. "Did you ever do anything colossally stupid just because you could?"

His eyes twinkle and the grin flashes across his face again. "Sure."

She studies his face, leans in a touch closer. "Don't suppose you're feeling really irresponsible right now, are you?"

He shrugs. "Just saved the president from gettin' assassinated. Plenty responsible enough for one day."

She puts a hand on his knee, and shouts a little internal hallelujah when his eyes darken a shade. "Good."

He swallows, hard enough she hears the gulp of it, and his gaze doesn't leave hers.

"Wanna be reckless with me, Gibbs?"

He smiles slowly, strokes his hand up her cheek and into her hair so he can tug her mouth to his. "Thought you'd never ask," he murmurs just before their lips touch, and then he's kissing her.

She moans, not at all surprised to find he's world class at this. His intense focus translates beautifully to making out, and being at the epicentre of all his concentration is overwhelming, and overwhelmingly good.

Despite the intensity, it's surprisingly gentle and unhurried, as if they're just a regular couple enjoying each other on the couch at home, rather than two barely acquainted people snatching an illicit moment on a crowded aircraft. There's fire here, she's sure, but it's banked up and controlled and he's letting out just enough to draw her to the flame, not enough to singe her wings.

Without thinking too hard about it - because if she thinks, she might start to remember what a terrible idea this is and stop, and she really doesn't want to stop - she lets her hand travel upward and inward, from his knee to his thigh, from a relatively innocent touch to sliding over his crotch.

He lets out a choked noise, but parts his legs all the same, allowing her access then groaning as she accepts the invitation. He's pretty damn hard already, and she hopes it's all because of her. She teases up and down, coaxing more strained grunts and gasps out of him, making him buck into her hand.

She chuckles into his mouth, because this is already way too much fun, and his fingers tangle more tightly into her hair.  _Laughing at me, Katie?_  She grins, and feels him shake his head. She's really coming around to this whole silent communication thing.

Having established he's most definitely okay with an impromptu handjob in semi-private, she ups the ante, sliding her whole hand around him as far as she can, feeling the length and thickness of him even through his clothing, moving up and down and unable to suppress a groan of her own, because he's definitely hard now, and he's not small, and  _wow_.

He better be willing to return the favour, because just touching him is making her so hot and bothered she's tempted to touch herself at the same time. She can't help imagining being naked with him and sliding down onto him, feeling him inside her, all of him, all the way in, and she has to break the kiss because the image is so hot,  _too_  hot. It's all she can do to keep concentrating on the task in hand.

His gaze is druggy and unfocused, but there's a grin hovering at the corners of his mouth, and she suspects he knows exactly what thought is getting her so flustered. She narrows her eyes at him and pushes the heel of her hand against the head of his erection, and it's her turn for the smug grin as he completely fails to suppress a croak of pleasure at least an octave and a half above anything else she's heard come out of his mouth.

"Bastard," she murmurs, and he shrugs.  _Yeah, and?_  At least he doesn't pretend otherwise, which puts him ahead of a lot of supposed 'nice guys'. Despite her better judgement, she's already planning to make sure he has her phone number before the day's out.

She would like a repeat performance. Soon.

They're both breathing hard, and his eyes don't leave hers. Someone could appear at any moment, an idea that should horrify her, but she can't bring herself to care. All she cares about is the look on his face and the feel of his cock and making him fall to pieces.

She can see his control slipping, and his hips are moving to a primal, ineffable rhythm, but his gaze is still on her face, hot and wanting, showing her exactly what she's doing to him and letting her fill in the blanks of exactly what he'd like to do to her.

She's so wrapped up in how he's looking at her, she gasps in surprise when his hand sweeps up her ribcage to cup her breast under her jacket. "Oh, God." She licks her lips desperately, and his glance down at her mouth is momentary, but his grin as she reacts to his caress sticks around. He pinches her nipple and she jumps as if he just gave her an electric shock, and he really had better be ready to get her off afterward or she will be forced to shoot him sooner than she'd planned.

She squeezes harder, moves faster. His eyes close at last, his body jerks and she can feel him shuddering. He pulls her closer and buries his face in her hair, groaning as he comes apart, his fingers digging into her back, his other hand grasping her breast to the point where it's almost too much. His breathing is harsh and uneven, and she does her best to draw every last twitch and moan of pleasure out of him she can.

For a few minutes after he's finally spent, they just sit, listening to the sound of their breathing and the background noise of the airplane. Kate can't quite believe she just did that, or how much she enjoyed it.

"God, Katie," he whispers in her ear eventually, and she laughs, she's not even sure why. "Damn, that was..."

"Sorry about the mess." She's not really sorry, and they both know it, but somehow it seems like the polite thing to say.

He nips her earlobe. "Cheeky."

She grins as he pulls back to look in her eye.

"Totally worth the cleanup, by the way," he adds.

Her cheeks flame with heat when she suddenly realises she still has her hand between his legs (a situation she remedies, reluctantly), but she also can't help smiling. Since they first got back to DC, she's been hearing anecdotes about Agent Gibbs from colleagues who've tangled with him before, and everything she's heard makes her think watching him -  _making_  him - lose control is not a common occurrence. She feels oddly privileged.

It was also, his status as a living legend aside, absolutely smoking hot, and she would love to do it again.

For a while longer, they just sit there grinning at each other, and then he leans in to kiss her again, more tenderly, and she dissolves even more, moans as he gently but insistently deepens the kiss, as his hand slips under the edge of her blouse to trace a line of fire over her skin.

When they surface, his eyes are hooded and dark. He licks his lips, and his voice is rough and low and full of need when he speaks.

"Wanna make you come, Kate," he breathes. "Wanna make you come... just for me."

Again it's instinctive. She knows, with spooky certainty, exactly what he means, and her body clenches at the thought.

"Gonna take you back in that pokey little bathroom, okay? Gonna make you scream."

"Okay."

Her voice is breathless. If he's willing, she sure as hell is. Privacy, Gibbs' mouth, an orgasm. She's so on board it's very nearly embarrassing.

She laughs again as an amendment to the plan occurs to her. "I have a better location in mind, though." If they're gonna be bad, they might as well be really bad, right?

She gets up and pulls him to his feet behind her, straightens her spine, walking briskly and trying to look like she has important business to attend to, rather than like she just made a near stranger come all over himself and is looking for a more private spot so he can return the favour.

He doesn't know the plane well, and she hears his sharp intake of breath as she pushes him through the door and he realises where they are.

"He's downstairs, for campaign meetings and more journalist interviews," she explains as she locks them in. "He's stuck in the conference room for the rest of the flight." If someone finds the office locked she's going to face some serious questions, but it'll give her a few moments to not actually be discovered in flagrante delicto, and she'll take it.

He shakes his head, momentarily shocked. She's rather proud of herself. She's certain Gibbs isn't easily surprised. "You want to...  _here_...?"

She shrugs, grins. "How often does the chance come up to misuse the office of the President of the United States this badly?"

His amusement returns as he walks over, crowding her in front of the desk and grinning. "Not often. Can't decide if you're crazy or a genius."

"Both, probably. You up for this?"

He doesn't answer aloud, just leans in to kiss her, hard, biting one lip, sucking on the other, then tilting his head to deepen it. She reaches blindly behind her to make sure she's not sitting on anything too vital, and then lets herself get lost in his mouth.

His hands are already scrabbling at her fly, opening her belt, pushing her pants down round her hips, then one of them slides between her legs. She groans and pushes against his touch.

"God, Katie," he murmurs.

She half expected him to laugh at her for how turned on she is just from kissing him and making him come in his underwear, but he sounds... awed. Like he's surprised he could turn her on so much.

His lips drift down under her chin, trace her throat, flick at her pulse point, and he must be able to feel the pounding of her heart. She doesn't even remember the last time she felt so apprehensive, so turned on, so alive.

He kisses further down into the open neck of her blouse, and she allows her head to fall back in abandon, her eyes closed and her mouth open. He takes a leisurely amble down her breastbone, a button then a kiss, a button then a kiss, his fingers reverently stroking her skin as more of it is revealed. Part of her is screaming, insisting he needs to hurry the fuck up, and another part is just revelling in his focused attention. She's rather conspicuously soaking through her underwear, which he reaches down to graze now and then, making her gasp.

Finally he gets to the last button, caresses her belly, tickling close to the top of her panties, laughing softly when she whimpers.

He doesn't bother undressing her properly, just pushes the blouse open enough to expose her. She makes herself open her eyes and look at him, enjoys the frank appreciation in his gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispers, and for some reason it makes her melt.

She's used to being complimented on her bravery, her smarts, her marksmanship, and she likes it, and she's confident Gibbs sees her as an agent, but he also sees her as a woman, and she likes that even more.

Another kiss, and she grabs his lapels to hold him there awhile. To say she's looking forward to having him go down on her would be an understatement of huge proportions, but as long as his hand is in her pants, she's very happy to have his tongue in her mouth a bit longer.

Eventually he's the one to pull away. "Got somethin' I really wanna do here, Katie," he rumbles. "Be a shame if someone came lookin' before I got to taste ya."

His voice is so low, so sensual and full of promise, it actually makes her skin tingle in anticipation. "'Kay," she manages.

"Okay?"

It's sweet he's double checking, the kind of sweetness she wouldn't have expected from him, and she grins even as she feels her cheeks turn pink again. "Okay."

He smiles slowly, then without preamble he's kneeling down, tugging her shoes and slacks off ("God, I wanna do this so bad, Katie, wanted to from the second you told me you grew your own balls, do you even realise...?"), parting her legs and nuzzling into her wet underwear.

She groans, lets herself lie back so she doesn't have to think about staying upright. There's probably some special word for the blasphemy of a (former) Secret Service agent getting eaten out on the President's desk, but she's past caring. She's sure she's never come across an explicit prohibition per se, and hey, she already lost her job. Then Gibbs' tongue finds her clit through the material and she stops being able to think about any kind of explicit except the sexual kind.

Out of nowhere, she's begging. He's just as good at this as he was at the kissing, and she's torn between cursing him for making her so needy and desperate so quickly, and blessing him for it. When his fingers hook into the sides of her panties and he starts to edge them down, she swears and pushes up into his mouth, only for him to pull away.

"You're delicious."

If she could formulate the sentence, she'd ask why he's stopped, given she's supposedly so damn tasty.  _Bastard_. She could probably find the breath for that, but she's pretty sure he'd just agree with her again, which doesn't make for a very satisfying insult.

He bites gently at her inner thighs as slides her underwear down her legs, and she wriggles and moans. He's too patient, and she wants his mouth back on her  _now_.

"Oh God, please."

She feels him chuckle and shake his head, and then the scrap of cotton slips off over her feet and thank fuck, because she's not sure how much more she can take.

"I'll be keepin' these," he murmurs, in a voice that's distilled sex.

"Just- please-" If he thinks he's getting a coherent response out of her right now, he's a lot less smart than he seems. A cool stream of air blows over her, and she whimpers, then his mouth is finally on her, his tongue sliding into her, and she groans with relief and clamps a hand around his head in a none too subtle warning not to stop.

His thumb traces a loose, teasing circle around her clit as he licks, deep and insistent, like he's trying to taste her as thoroughly as he's able, like he can't get enough. He tugs one leg over his shoulder, and she's even more open to him, and she's sure she should be feeling exposed and vulnerable, but she's never been with a man who does this so much like it's a treat, not a chore, like he could and would do it for hours, and his enthusiasm is an even bigger turn on than his undeniable skill. It feels way too good for self-consciousness to get a look in.

His other hand is stroking over her stomach, his fingertips work-roughened but gentle, this touch less sexual but somehow no less seductive. She's a mess of nerve-endings and heat, and she grips his head and the edge of the desk like her life depends on it, trying not to entirely lose her mind.

"Please... oh God... oh, please."

She can feel his grin and his laugh. Apparently he wants to torture her. It's definitely working.

When he's reduced her to absolute incoherency, he licks a long, lazy line upward, and by the time his tongue swirls close to (but not over) her clit, she's writhing. He's still teasing, and she could  _cry_. His fingers slip inside her, and she bites her lip, trying so hard not to actually scream at him. His tongue is indolent, unhurried, like he has all day to play with her, like he's memorising her, like he's mapping every hot wet inch, and she's helpless to do anything except lay here and take it.

He slowly works his way in, closer and closer, and by the time he's finally where she wants him, the touch of his tongue on her clit makes her whole body jolt and tremble. He laps at her, circles, licks, sucks, and she shakes, tightening her leg around his neck, her fingers in his hair,  _don't let him stop_ , her other hand clamping over her mouth in a vain attempt to muffle the noises she's making in case someone walks by. Her breathing is ragged by the time he cocks his fingers inside her, his lips closing hard around her clit, then her back is arching and she keens high and thin and bites down on her own finger as release rushes through her.

It seems to go on forever but it's still over too fast, and she flops back onto the desk, utterly spent.  _Wow_.

Gibbs is still licking her, gently but thoroughly, and it takes her a moment to realise he's attempting to clean up some of the puddle he's left between her legs. She'd protest, but she doesn't have the energy and she's loath to miss out on having his mouth on her for as long as possible. Even if it's almost more than she can stand.

She shudders with the oh so enjoyable excess of sensation as he mops her up with his tongue and his lips, and sighs when he stops. She heaves herself up onto her elbows and looks at him, sees his pleased smirk.

"God, you taste good," he says, wiping his face. Then he's standing up, grabbing her hands and pulling her upright, tugging her in until her body is flush with his then bending down. The kiss tastes of her.

"You're amazin'," he murmurs. His fingers trace lines up the side of her neck and along her jaw, then down again, his expression reluctant as he tugs her blouse closed and starts to button it. "Kinda wanna keep ya this way, but-" he pulls a face "-guess people might notice."

She laughs. "You think?"

His eyebrows shoot up, then he laughs too. She's not certain why it got quite such a reaction, but his grin is wide and sincere, so apparently whatever the reason was, it was a good one.

Once he has her blouse buttoned he bends to retrieve her pants, then throws her entirely off balance, dipping his fingers between her legs again before sucking them one by one into his mouth with a groan of pleasure that makes her belly flipflop.

She gapes at him for a moment as he holds out her slacks. She's so turned on by his little display, for a second she can't even breathe. She gulps, then remembers to take the pants from him.  _Oh, good God_. His smile is wicked - he knows exactly what he's doing. She clears her throat. "My- my panties?" Her voice is shaking.

"They're stayin' in my pocket, Katie. Told ya I was keepin' them. You want 'em, you'll have to fight me for 'em."

He leans in closer, grinning, challenging her, and his proximity makes her blush. She considers protesting, but she's not sure she's able to speak, and there's undeniably a part of her which really, really loves the idea of him keeping a souvenir.

She holds the eye contact a moment longer, then shakes her head and steps away from him to clear her mind and put her slacks back on, wriggling slightly at the unfamiliar sensation of having no underwear and still being rather aroused.

"Asshole," she says mildly.

He just shrugs and nods. Insulting him is a complete non-starter, it seems. "You're a helluva woman, Kate Todd. Secret Service doesn't deserve ya."

She blinks at another unexpected compliment, then opens her mouth to admit they no longer have her, but she's not quite ready to voice the scary truth out loud. Instead, she shakes her head, presses her lips into something approximating a smile. "Thanks," she manages eventually.

He chucks her under the chin, smiles down at her with more affection than she'd anticipated, then checks his watch. "Closin' in on DC. Guess we better go pretend we ain't been misbehavin'."

She nods, slipping her shoes back on. They make her feel more like herself, though her knees are wobbling and she hopes she's not going to break an ankle. She crosses to the door, Gibbs on her heels, and unlocks it to peer out into the corridor, which is blessedly deserted. "Coast's clear."

They slip out of the room and she leads the way back to their seats, just in time for the announcement they're descending into Andrews and the request to fasten their seatbelts. They buckle in, and Kate wonders how awkward it'll be as they part - what, if anything, she can expect, exactly when she'll find a moment to slip him her card and a pleading look.

Then she about jumps out of her skin when she feels his hand rest lightly on hers. Before she even has time to think about it, before she even looks up into his face, she's turning her hand over so she can lace her fingers into his. When she glances at him, he's not even looking in her direction, has his chin propped on his other fist, like one hand hasn't a clue what the other is doing, but it doesn't stop him from intertwining their fingers a little tighter and rubbing his thumb over hers.

She grins uncontrollably as she looks away. Quite what will come of this who knows, but it's certainly going to be something, not nothing, and she can live with that. She kind of thought this was her last chance to do something so reckless, but maybe, as it turns out, it was just the start.

_~ fin ~_


End file.
